


Pounding

by FiveLeafClover



Category: Casualty (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveLeafClover/pseuds/FiveLeafClover
Summary: He shut his eyes tightly, he worked harder and harder and harder. He couldn't give up. He could never give up. Not on him. (Another vague summary, gosh. Summaries are hard when you don't want to give anything away!)





	Pounding

**Author's Note:**

> [backdated fic, originally posted on fanfiction/net under the username InfinityAndOne, posted here 07/06/18]

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to breathe deeply. He was focused and his mind was set on one thing and one thing only. This. His arms were aching with the force of his actions and his chest burned as he coughed weakly. He was determined not to give up. With renewed confidence, he forced his eyes open and continued almost furiously.

He could still feel the water droplets in his hair, occasionally running down his forehead. He was almost fully leaned over, putting all his remaining energy into this. He could feel his arms start to shake with exhaustion and grimly remembered how hard his limbs had to work against the force of gravity, clothing and water to even be at this stage.

He couldn't give up now. He wouldn't give up now. Not now, not after everything they've been through together.

He couldn't register the sounds people were making as coherent sentences, but he could feel his head shake and shake and shake. It shook so much, black spots danced in front of him - reminding him of just how  _tired_ he was. The world started to spin and he had to stop for a few moments to regain some sense of balance.

No. He could do this. He had to do this. No-one could take over, no-one could ever do a better job at this than him.

It continued.

His heart was pounding. His brain was frantically ticking over. His arms were burning. His vision was blurring. Tears mixed with the water droplets. Combined, they ran faster down his face.

This was not fair. This was not supposed to happen. Never supposed to happen. A wave of anger overtook him and he worked faster, harder, more, more, more.

Pulse check.

Nothing.

Continue. And continue on and on and on because he was not giving up, not today. Not ever.

It didn't feel real. This wasn't meant to happen. It couldn't have happened. But it was happening and wrapping his head around the concept hurt. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before.

Everything felt so wrong, so disconnected. He was doing this, he had been doing this for a while. But as soon as he dived into the water, as soon as the ice cold water hit him, reality became dream-like and he worked on autopilot. Because the only thing on his mind was to  _save_   _him_.

And then it all went wrong.

"It's time."

No. It's not time. It has never been, it is not and it will never be  _time_. Because time means the end and the end shouldn't be at this  _time_.

But his mind was separated from his body, and his heart was separated from both. He was so tired, so angry, so upset, so frustrated and so  _sad_.

And, in his mind, he knew it was time. His heart disagreed. His heart will always and forever disagree, but it was time. Time to let him have peace.

Through his tear-filled eyes, he couldn't see who's hands were placed over his own. All he felt was his disconnected movements come to an end. His heart started to slow as he stopped pounding on his brother's chest. And then the reality of the situation dawned upon him. It finally crashed down around him and he couldn't stop his knees failing and collapsing to the ground in pure desperation.

Ethan's hoarse voice filled the otherwise quiet area - filled with only the sounds of the canal's water being moved gently by the wind and the night-time sounds of nature, as he knelt still - almost like a statue - staring at the cold and limp body of his big brother. "Time of death - 1:39."

**Author's Note:**

> So I did another thing... kind of like when I wrote 'Fire', I guess, because of the burst of inspiration again. Oh, how I wish inspiration was more constant. Sorry for any errors, it's late in the night (or early in the morning, depending on your perspective). I have a really bad habit of writing when I should be sleeping... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed - feedback would be great!


End file.
